If I Loved You Less

by Noelle Adams

  They lay together for a few minutes in silence, and Ward enjoyed the complete satisfaction of his body—something he hadn’t felt in years—and he enjoyed the peace of being with Em like this.

  Something he’d never experienced until now.

  “How was champagne Thursday?” he asked eventually, wanting to hear her talk to him, wanting her to open up.

  “It was good. Liz and Jane talked mostly about wedding plans.”

  “And how did that make you feel?”

  Em frowned faintly. “It made me feel fine. I’m excited for them, and I love weddings.”

  He knew she did. It was wrong that she was so convinced she could never have one for herself.

  “They’re both going to keep living in Pemberley House for the time being, aren’t they?”

  “Yes. They are. They’re not going anywhere.” She paused. “Yet.”

  He stroked her back, knowing this was a sore spot. Knowing that things would change when they got married, even though they weren’t immediately going anywhere. “They’ll always be your friends.”

  “I know.”

  “Riot said she applied for three jobs.”

  “When did she tell you that?”

  “I ran into her in the parking lot this evening.” He briefly considered telling Em that Riot had seemed to be flirting with him, but he didn’t want to complicate matters and he might have been wrong. “What jobs are they?”

  “One’s with a dress store. One’s with a department store. And one is with a nonprofit.”

  “A nonprofit?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You must have pointed her in that direction.” His voice was faintly amused, imagining Riot working for a nonprofit.

  Em stiffened. He felt it against his body. “I did not point her in that direction.”

  “Then how did she even find the job ad?”

  “I printed off a bunch of job postings, including the two retail positions, just so you know I wasn’t trying to get her to do my thing. She was the one who picked out the nonprofit.”

  Ward could hear defensiveness in Em’s tone, so he tried to dial back his tone. “I believe you. I believe you. I just think she probably only picked it out because she knew you’d want her to.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m not still pressuring Riot to do what I want her to do.”

  “I didn’t say you were.” He was starting to get annoyed now. She was getting angry over nothing. “All I said was that you can exert influence without ever saying a word.”

  “Well, I’m not exerting influence. You think even after what happened before, I’m stupid enough to do it again.”

  “I never said you were stupid, Em. Stop overreacting. I’m just trying to help. That’s all I’ve ever done. I know you’re not intending to, but you’re still exerting influence over Riot, so she’s going to end up doing what you want rather than what might be best for her.”

  “You’ve set it up in your mind so that I’m always going to fail. I exert bad influence when I try, and I also exert bad influence when I try not to. How the hell am I supposed to come out ahead in that scenario?”

  “You can maybe give Riot a little space to make her own decisions.” He knew he should stop talking, but he couldn’t seem to do it. He’d been holding back too much for too long, and this was what was coming out now.

  Em was so angry she sat up in bed and glared down at him. “I’ve given her plenty of space. Obviously, I can never do right in your mind. We’re having sex now, and you’re still treating me like a naughty child who needs little lectures all the time.”

  Ward almost choked over a surge of outrage. “I am not treating you like a naughty child.”

  “Yes, you are.” She got out of the bed with a fast, jerky motion. She reached down for the leggings she’d worn over there. “Try to listen to yourself occasionally, and you’ll hear what I hear. You’re the wise master. And I’m some sort of silly little girl. And that doesn’t work for me, Ward Knightley.” Her face was tense and set. Only her eyes were emotional. “It doesn’t work for me. I thought things might be different now, but I was evidently wrong again. I can’t have sex with someone who treats me like that.” She stuffed her feet into her fuzzy boots and pulled her heavy sweater on over his T-shirt, which she was still wearing.

  Ward sat up abruptly. “Are you seriously ending things because of a little argument?”

  “It’s not a little argument. And yes, I’m ending things. If you’re going to treat me like a child, then you don’t get to have sex with me. Even you must be able to see why.”

  With that, she strode out of the room and then out of his cottage. He heard the door shut before he could even get out of bed.

  Seven

  EM WAS LYING IN BED, trying not to think about Ward.

  She was failing miserably.

  Miserable was the operable word.

  When she’d walked out of Ward’s cottage three nights ago, she’d been sure she was doing the right thing. She’d had it in her mind from the beginning that Ward’s treating her like a little girl would be the sign that the sex between them would have to end. It would be the symbol that their new relationship wasn’t going to work.

  His tone and words in bed that night had been perfectly clear to her. They’d felt like a punch in the gut. She’d known she had to leave, that she couldn’t sleep with him again. Nothing had ever been more certain for her.

  But now...

  She was having second thoughts.

  And third thoughts.

  And thirty-third thoughts.

  With a loud sigh, she reached for her phone from her nightstand and pulled up the text conversation with Ward.

  The last four messages were from him.

  The first one had come less than an hour after she’d walked out on him. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. Please come back.

  She’d ignored it because she’d still been filled with righteous indignation and she didn’t want to talk to him since she knew it would weaken her resolve.

  The next one had come at eight o’clock the following evening, right around the time she usually had gotten her father to bed and went over to his place. Please don’t end things over an argument. We can work it out if you talk to me. Please come over.

  She’d ignored that one too. It had made her feel guilty and strangely young, like she was behaving irrationally.

  Surely it wasn’t irrational to not want to have sex with a man who insisted on treating you like a silly child. Surely she wasn’t the only woman who would have a problem with that.

  She wasn’t going to cave.

  The next message had come the following night at just after eight. I’m so sorry, Em. Even if you’re not ready to forgive me, please come and talk to me.

  She hadn’t replied to that one either, but it was much harder to resist. She missed Ward. Not just having sex with him—although she certainly missed that after more than two weeks of incredibly satisfying sex—but she missed him in every other way as well. She missed talking to him, laughing with him, sharing her day with him, hearing about his.

  She missed feeling like there was someone who was really with her, who was there for her no matter what.

  But it scared her that she missed him so much. She shouldn’t be so needy. She wasn’t in a committed relationship with Ward. She never had been. She couldn’t let herself start thinking as if they were.

  So she’d held out and hadn’t replied.

  But he’d texted her again today at the same time. Just after eight in the evening.

  I’ve been thinking about it a lot, and I can see why you got so upset. I promise I don’t think about you like a child, but I can see what I did to make you think that. I’ll do better. I mean it. I miss you. Please forgive me. Please come back.

  What he was saying was so much what she wanted to hear. Exactly what she wanted to hear. He missed her. He wouldn’t make her feel that way again. He wanted them to work on their relationship.

 
; It was what she wanted too.

  She was staring at her phone, her hands shaking because she wanted to go to him so much, when another text came in with a swooping sound. I miss you more every minute.

  She gave a little sob and gave up.

  She jumped out of bed, stuffed her feet into slippers, threw on a belted sweater, and headed for the door.

  Four minutes later she was knocking on the door of Ward’s cottage.

  It took him only a few seconds to fling the door open. He wore his pajama pants and no shirt. No shoes. Rumpled hair. He needed to shave.

  His blue eyes were urgent. “Em?”

  “I’m sorry too,” she rasped.

  He made a choking sound as relief transformed his face, and he dragged her into a kiss, right there in the doorway.

  She kissed him back with all the pent-up emotion from the past three days, clutching his big body like it was a lifeline.

  Eventually he stepped them back into the cottage and kicked the door shut behind them. Then he gathered her up into his arms, barely breaking the kiss. Still in their embrace, he carried her into his bedroom and laid her down on the bed.

  She pulled him down on top of her, unwilling to let him go now that she had him back.

  They made love like that, only parting to get rid of their clothes and to roll on the condom. Then he was moving inside her, and her legs were wrapped tightly around him, and she knew that he was really with her. With her all the way.

  She didn’t really come, but she didn’t really care. Everything felt amazing as their bodies rocked together, and after a while his muscles tightened, and he gasped out his release against her mouth.

  She was relaxed and smiling and perfectly content when he finally raised his head. “Sorry about that.”

  “Don’t you dare apologize for that. It was amazing.”

  “I don’t think you came.”

  “I didn’t need to. We hardly had any foreplay, so it wasn’t going to happen. That was exactly what I wanted.”

  His eyes were warm. So soft. “I hope so.”

  “It was.”

  “Okay.” He kissed her again. Gently. So sweet. “I meant what I said in the text. I have been thinking about it. Over and over again. I couldn’t think of anything else. And I see now why you thought I was treating you like a child. It wasn’t intentional. It’s certainly not how I think about you. But I guess I’ve always wanted to take care of you, and that doesn’t change just because we’re having sex.”

  “It has to change a little. At least in how you take care of me. We have to be equal. It can’t be you always being right and me always being wrong and silly.”

  “I know. I know you’re not always wrong. I’ve always thought you were amazing. And I’ll work on the other stuff. I promise.”

  She nodded. “And I’ll try not to be so sensitive about it. I know it will take some time. As long as we’re working on it.”

  “We will.” He kissed her again before he pulled out of her and tied off the condom. He got up and went to the bathroom to clean up and then pulled on a pair of boxers as he came back to bed.

  Before he pulled her into his arms, she got up too, went to the bathroom, and found one of his T-shirts to sleep in. Then she climbed under the covers and snuggled up against him. His arm went around her, and she felt exactly right.

  Maybe it wasn’t wrong to want this.

  Maybe they could make it work.

  She didn’t have to have a marriage and family or ever leave her father. Maybe she could at least have this.

  TWO WEEKS LATER, WARD woke up with that groggy, heavy feeling that made it hard to even open his eyes.

  Em had gone out with some friends the night before, and she hadn’t come over to his place until almost midnight. He’d waited up for her—of course—and they’d both been in an enthusiastic mood, so they hadn’t gotten to sleep until one thirty in the morning.

  It must be around six thirty now. He always woke up around then naturally. But today his eyes and his head were heavy, and he didn’t really want to move.

  He must have pulled a muscle during their amorous activities last night because he winced with a pang of pain when he turned over onto his back and opened his eyes.

  Then he realized why he’d woken up. Em was awake and sitting on the side of the bed, pulling on the leggings she’d been wearing when she came over last night.

  “Where are you going?” he mumbled.

  “Where do you think? I’m going back home.”

  He groaned softly and reached out to pull her back down beside him. “Why are you leaving so early?”

  “Because I have to leave early if I want to get back before Dad gets up.”

  “He doesn’t get up at six thirty.” He settled her soft, slim body beside his.

  She didn’t pull away from him immediately. She rubbed his naked chest, and it sounded like she was smiling as she said, “But he does sometimes get up around seven.”

  “So stay with me until seven.”

  “I’m not going to have sex with you first thing in the morning.” Her tone was wry. Adorable.

  He chuckled softly. “I’m not looking for sex. After last night, I’m not sure I have the energy. I just want you to stay in bed with me. I don’t like how you always run away.”

  “I don’t run away. If I was running away, I’d leave right after we have sex, and I never do that. But I can’t let Dad find out what we’ve been doing. You know I can’t.”

  He knew that was true. There was nothing in the world that would upset Mr. Woodson like finding out a man he trusted had been having sex with his precious daughter. Ward understood Em’s reluctance, but it was starting to bother him.

  They’d been together for more than a month now. He wanted her to be his outside of the bedroom.

  He wanted to be with her during the day.

  He wanted everyone else to know it too.

  It was wrong to want those things, but he wanted them anyway.

  He couldn’t stop himself from doing so.

  “I’m not saying that you need to tell your dad. I’m just saying I don’t want you to leave right away. Even if he’s up before you’re back, you can always just say you were taking a walk or something.”

  “I guess.” Em settled herself against him, her body sweet and clingy.

  It did something very dangerous to his heart.

  Something that scared him so much that he knew he needed to protect himself better.

  He knew from hard experience what it was like to be walked out on by a woman he trusted. He knew what it felt like when a woman wanted something else more than she wanted him.

  He couldn’t relive that experience with Em.

  He could do this. He just needed to be more careful than he’d been so far.

  He slowly moved his arm so it wasn’t holding her against him. “Okay. I’ve had my fair share of snuggling. You can go if you want.”

  Em raised her head, her smile fading slowly into a confused frown. She scanned his face, like she was trying to figure out what he was thinking.

  He couldn’t let her know what he was thinking.

  He gave her a casual smile. “I mean it. I don’t want to make things awkward for you. If you need to go, you can go.”

  “Okay.” She smiled at him again, but some of the soft warmth had left her expression.

  He missed it. Hated that it had faded. But it was probably for the best.

  He wasn’t going to lie to himself about this. Em might be the center of his life, but he wasn’t even close to the center of hers.

  He needed to keep remembering that.

  “What are your plans for today?” he asked, searching for easy conversation to move them past the weirdness.

  “Dad has a haircut, so I’m taking him to that. And I’m going to try to convince him to eat lunch out afterward. Then I’ve got to do a story on the Harvest Festival downtown, so I’ll have to stop by there. I’m not sure what I’ll do afterward.” She paused,
slanting him a little look.

  Ward almost—almost—suggested they get together and do something, but that would be in direct contradiction to the resolution he’d just made to himself. So he just nodded and murmured, “Doesn’t sound too bad.”

  “No. It won’t be too bad.” She pulled her boots on and stood up. “Okay. I’ll see you later.” She leaned down to give him a quick kiss, looking gorgeous and breezy and oddly distant.

  Like she wasn’t his.

  “See you,” he said as she left the room.

  She wasn’t his. Not all the way. Not in the ways that really mattered.

  If he couldn’t make himself realize that, then he would have to stop having sex with her.

  And he really didn’t want to do that.

  THAT AFTERNOON, EM ran into Anne as she was leaving the Harvest Festival, so they got some cider and sat down to chat for a while on a bench.

  The “festival” was mostly a bunch of stands put together by local businesses. There was a decent turnout today, but it wasn’t a huge affair. The day was sunny and fairly warm for late October. Em enjoyed the fresh air and the cider and the activity on the street and having Anne’s company.

  She would have been in a very good mood had her thoughts not occasionally drifted back to this morning. Ward had been so soft and affectionate. Then he’d practically kicked her out of bed after asking her to stay.

  It was weird. It had bothered her. She couldn’t figure out any way to understand it. She tried to let it go—it was probably just a passing thing—but she couldn’t get it out of her mind.

  “What’s bothering you?” Anne asked after a minute of silence.

  “Nothing.” Em smiled intentionally. “I’m great.”

  “It feels like you’re distracted by something. What’s going on that I need to know?”

  Em opened her mouth, on the verge of telling her. But the same thing stopped her that had stopped her for the past month. If she talked about this thing with Ward, it would become serious.

  “Are you seeing someone?” Anne asked when Em didn’t answer.

  Em stiffened. “How did you know?” That wasn’t the right response. It was a stupid response. It revealed everything. She was usually better at talking than this.